Only Fools Rush In (And I Ain't No Fool)

"Are you sure they won't mind us tagging along?" I asked, following Peter toward the restaurant. The band had settled here for lunch after another long day at the studio which was to be followed up with another show that night. Having missed the recording session due to me sleeping through Peter's phone calls, he picked me up just in time for lunch. And I felt like such an intruder. I get that I was Peter's guest and he could bring along whomever he fancied but how often did the roadies get to join in on all the fun? I hardly ever saw Max or Ralph or any of the others outside the concert hall. "I don't want to bother them."

"If anyone's bothering them it's probably me," Peter said, holding the door open for me. I stepped inside, warming up instantly from the cool outside. The weather had finally started to turn. "But they're getting an awful lot of free labor out of me lately so they shouldn't be too upset." Peter had a point. Ever since I showed up he had been doing more work than was necessary. Just the other day he carried several pounds of recording tape to the studio after ordering more from a shop down the road. When someone on the team couldn't get his car started Peter stayed longer to help him out. I knew part of it was just Peter's character. He liked helping people. The other part was maybe to make up for his constant presence and mine as well. "Besides," Peter said with a smile and low voice. "You couldn't possibly bother Angus."

"Oh, shut up," I mumbled, looking around for any listening ears. Near the back of the restaurant was a racket that could rival any sport stadium. Before us were three whole tables that had been shoved together to fit everyone. The band was scattered around the table with some studio people between. To my surprise I saw Ralph wearing the official roadie uniform of an AC/DC shirt and a couple others sporting the same thing. Peter had worn a regular t shirt underneath a flannel. I wore a sundress under a raincoat. Both of us could have been two regular fans. 

"There you are," Ralph said, waving us over. "Lou's eating all the lobster."

"And I'm picking what I can off the chicken bones," Lou said. He had blond hair that fell around his glasses. "After you devoured them."

Peter found two extra chairs and pulled them up to one of the tables. It was a rather tight squeeze but luckily I'm pretty small. A huge plate of bones was placed in front of me; only a couple of chicken wings were left. "Take what you can," Ralph said. "There's no rules here. Utter anarchy."

"Did any of you grab a menu?" Peter asked. "Or just ask for one of everything?"

"Pretty much," Lou said. "Studio big shots are paying for it so why the hell not?"

"Anybody order a wine?" Peter asked. The tables were drenched with food and drinks. A path of pints wound around the platters and my eyes stopped at one very empty glass of milk. There was Angus talking to Cliff about something with the biggest smile on his face. My own face grew hot and I looked away. Nothing better to distract myself with than a chicken wing. 

A rather cold chicken wing at that. 

"Think it might rain later," Ralph said, mouth full. "Expect a full night running around with wet instruments."

"Lovely," Peter said. He turned to me. "Whenever it rains at an outdoor show we have to make sure nothing gets water logged."

"And that no one gets electrocuted," Ralph said. 

"What?" I asked. The idea of one of them getting hurt like that....I shuddered. It was too much.

"Don't worry, we've got it," Lou said. "A fucking tornado didn't stop these guys."

"Didn't I tell you they're the best?" Peter smiled. I smiled back.

"Okay, I get it!" I said. "This band kicks ass and no one else comes close." It was comforting to know my friend had a job he loved. Treated well, enjoyed himself, had fun. Unlike me who worked from paycheck to paycheck all for an atmosphere I couldn't be a part of.